


Unexpected

by ShyVioletCat



Series: Unexpected [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: non Canon, written pre ACOWAR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyVioletCat/pseuds/ShyVioletCat
Summary: WRITTEN PRE ACOWARMorrigan and Azriel receive and unexpected surprise. But not at all unwelcome.





	Unexpected

Mor looked down at her daughter who slept soundly in her arms and smiled. Then suddenly the baby sneezed and the unexpected sound made Mor jump and she held her breath as her daughter settled into sleep again. Unfortunately at two weeks old the baby girl was still without a name. Her family had taken to calling her Baby Moriel, combining Mor’s and Azriel’s names. It had been funny to start with but the longer her daughter was left without a name the more Moriel was beginning to stick and Mor didn’t like that.

Leaning back in her chair Mor thought back to instances in her daughter’s life, like she had many times before, looking for inspiration. She and Azriel had gone through what seemed like hundreds of names but none had fit.

Unexpected was one word Morrigan would use to describe her daughter’s existence and out of exasperation it was sounding like a decent name. But Unexpected was an awful choice and it had connotations as to being unwanted, which was everything her daughter was not.

~~~~~

The first unexpected experience was when Mor discovered she was pregnant. She had been sparring with Cassian and he had pushed her to her limits. She was on the ground retching while his smartass mouth was running away with him.

“Come on Mor,” Cassian said with his face set into an arrogant smirk, “we’re not finished. Up you get.” Cassian started stalking forward, making to attack again.

“Back off Cassian,” Mor snarled trying to steady her heaving body. Cassian didn’t back off and only chuckled as he stepped closer. “By the Cauldron Cassian, I’m serious,” Mor had hissed as a final warning.

Cassian lunged and Mor sent out a force blast that knocked Cassian on his ass. Mor was breathing deep as she pulled herself up with the assistance of a nearby wall, Cassian was already up and shaking out his wings.

Then he said while laughing, “The last time you couldn’t handle training like this was when…” they locked eyes and Cassian took in a deep breath through his nose.

“Was when I was pregnant with Daeron…” Mor thought to herself.

Both Cassian’s and Mor’s eyes had gone wide then Cassian turned his head slightly and yelled, “Azriel!”

Within moments Azriel was there. Seeing Mor leaning against the wall Azriel moved instinctively towards her, his shadows drawing closer to him and worry marring his handsome features.

“Morrigan, what is it?” Azriel asked. Mor didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

“Take a whiff, Az,” Cassian said folding his arms.

Looking between them Azriel continued to move closer to Mor and she saw him breathe deep, then his shadows flared. Using all the speed he could muster he closed the distance between them and put one hand on the small of her back and the other cupped Mor’s cheek. Mor shifted most of her weight to Azriel’s care and he held her close, leaning his forehead to hers. “Mor,” Azriel whispered.

Mor tried to speak but nausea overwhelmed her and leaning out of Azriel’s grasp Mor’s hands landed on her knees and she vomited.

 

The next stream of instances happened one after the other and started as Mor lay on a chaise in front of window, enjoying the afternoon sun that streamed in. Mor had not been pregnant for over 40 years, but she remembered it clearly, and running her hands over her stomach now noted that she was much smaller than she was the first time. And she was only three weeks away from being full term. The healers had assured her all was well but a little thought of doubt found its way into her mind.

Daeron had been quiet a large baby when he was born, with an impressive set of lungs to and wings match. As he grew he became the spitting image of his father except that he had Mor’s molten brown eyes. Mor closed her eyes and stretched, and then hissed as pain flashed in the lower part of her abdomen.

“Mother?”

“In here!” Mor called back shifting herself into a slightly more upright position dismissing the pain she had just felt. She just brushed it off as a false contraction which she had been feeling every so often over the last few weeks.

Daeron appeared in the doorway, smiling, and Mor smiled back. “How are you feeling?” He asked as he sat by his Mother’s feet at the end of the chaise.

“Tired. And fat. But not too bad,” Mor said. Daeron chuckled as he moved Mor’s feet to his lap and begun to rub her feet.

“Where’s Father?”

“On the roof I suspect,” Mor said reclining her head once more.

“The roof?” Daeron said with a suppressed smile.

“He was hovering, it was driving me crazy, so I told him to go out and do something. Pretty sure I heard him land on the roof a few minutes later.”  
Daeron chuckled and continued to rub Mor’s feet and she practically purred in response. That was until another flash of pain caused her to hiss and lean up a little.

Daeron stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. Just false labour pains.” Frustrated Mor leant back again, hoping her body would let her relax. It was not to be so, because before too long another pain ripped through Mor’s body and this time she sat up entirely and swung her legs off the chair.

Daeron looked at his mother, brows furrowed in concern. “I’m going to go get…”

Daeron’s words were cut off as Mor let out a strangled cry of pain. There was the sound of wings flapping, then the front door opening and then running footsteps. Azriel appeared in the doorway and taking in the scene he rushed to Mor and knelt in front of her.

“Daeron, I need you to fetch a healer,” Azriel said not taking his eyes off Mor.

“No I don’t need a healer,” Mor said with one of her most charming smiles.  
Neither Azriel or Daeron were affected by her attempts to charm them and after sharing a look with his father, Daeron followed his instructions and left the room.

“Mor, I think we should get you upstairs,” Azriel said.

“It’s nothing, it’s too early Az, it’s just false contractions,” Mor said as she lent back and attempted to stretch out her body.

“Regardless I think the bed will be more comfortable, you’ll be able to stretch out,” Azriel said as he helped Mor to her feet. She waved off his assistance but Azriel kept annoyingly close to her side and Mor mumbled something about fussy, overprotective males which made Azriel huff out a laugh. Despite her protestations Mor did grip Azriel’s arm tightly as they ascended the stairs.

At the stop of the stairs another pain caused Mor to grab both of Azriel’s arms to keep herself upright. Then Mor felt a wetness trickling down her legs. Her waters had broken. Sheer panic overtook Mor as she looked up to Azriel’s face.

“Az, it’s too early, it’s too early,” Mor voice was trembling as she spoke. Without waiting for any argument Azriel swept Mor up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom where he gently laid her down on the bed.

Mor’s breath had become gasping and irregular in her panic so Azriel took one of her hands in his and placed the other on her cheek. “Mor, Mor. Look at me,” brown eyes met hazel and Azriel brought Mor’s delicate hand to his lips. “Everything will be fine. The healer will be here any moment. The baby will be fine and you will be fine.”

The conviction in Azriel’s voice had Mor nodding in agreement. “Now, breath with me.” Azriel took in a deep breath and Mor attempted to do the same, then he let it out and Mor did as well. It took a few rounds before Mor’s breathing once again became regular and once it did Azriel arranged the pillows behind Mor so that she could lean back comfortably.

As another contraction hit Mor the door opened and the healer appeared, her face stern but kind.

“Seems someone is a little too eager to enter the world,” the healer said as she began ordering Daeron and Azriel about the prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Mor’s labour had lasted into the night and into the early hours of the morning then as dawn began to break the cries of a newborn baby filled the air. After hearing the noise the first words to come out of Mor’s mouth were, “Is it alright? Is the baby alright?”

After a few moments that seemed to stretch on for an eternity the healer responded with, “Yes, the baby is fine. And it’s a girl!”

The healer placed the baby onto Mor’s chest and Mor cradled it close as Azriel looked down and kissing Mor’s head, a smile never leaving his face. The healer attended to what needed to be done then asked Azriel to bring the baby over so that she could be washed and swaddled. Azriel lifted the child from Mor’s chest and that’s when Mor noticed.

“Wings,” Mor said quietly, her voice rasping, “she doesn’t have wings.”

Azriel stopped where he stood and looked down. Mor’s mind reeled. All the other children born to the Illyrian males had wings, even Rhysand’s children had wings and he was only half Illyrian. Why didn’t her daughter have wings? Was there something wrong?

Mor lent back in the pillows, closing her eyes and tears began to fall onto her cheeks. From exhaustion, pain or sorrow, Mor could not tell.

“I’m sorry,” Mor said as a sob escaped her lips. Pure confusion showed on Azriel’s face as turned from where now stood from where the healer was tending to the child, he walked to the bed a eased himself next to Mor.

Brushing the damp hair back from Mor’s forehead her asked, “What are you sorry for?”

“She doesn't… Az, no…” Mor was truly crying then and Azriel gathered her in his arms.

“She is perfect Mor. I couldn’t care less if she had wings or not. She’s perfect.”

Mor looked up to Azriel’s face and saw that he was beaming, the sight made her chest constrict and she couldn’t help but smile in return. The healer approached a moment later, the newborn bundled in a deep purple blanket and laid down the child in Mor’s awaiting arms. Mor now looked down at her daughter and felt her heart explode within her chest. Azriel had been right. She was perfect. Her little tufts of hair were fair but her skin had the tan of her Illyrian heritage and dark lashes graced her tiny, closed eyelids. Tears fell anew on Mor’s cheeks as Azriel pulled the two of them closer, laying one of his arms over Mor’s as she cradled the child. Mor was mesmerised and couldn’t look away.

“I’m going to go get Daeron,” Azriel whispered and Mor nodded and barely noticed as Azriel left her side. The healer left as Azriel did, and mother and daughter were left utterly alone.

“Hello my sweet thing,” Mor said quietly as she drew a finger delicately over her daughter’s cheek “I love you so much. So much it hurts. And your Father was right, you are perfect. And we love you and you are so precious to us. You are perfect and we love you.” Mor raised the baby to her lips and placed a kiss on the baby’s head.

It was then the door opened and Azriel stepped in with Daeron, both of whom had unfaltering grins on their faces. Daeron moved forward quietly and perched himself besides Mor’s head so he could look down at his sister. When Mor looked up she saw her son was crying and she smiled up at him.

“Would you like to hold her?” Daeron only nodded in response as he took the swaddled bundle and moved to the chair that was beside the bed. Azriel joined Mor back on the bed and pulled her to his chest. Mor finally gave into sleep, a smile on her face, feeling complete as her family surrounded her.

The extended family had given them a day to recover from the unexpected shock of the birth before they came quietly knocking at the door. Cassian had practically been scratching at the wood to be let in and no one, not even Nesta, had been able to stop him.

Azriel only let Rhys and Feyre up to the bedroom, Rhys invoking some made up High Lord privilege, as the rest waited impatiently downstairs. The High Lord and High Lady had gushed and cooed and cried as they beheld the tiny baby. Feyre helped dress the baby and it was only then that her and Rhys noticed the lack of wings.

Feyre’s response was to express her jealousy about how easy baby clothes would be and only Rhys blinked once in surprise then went back to hovering over and around his little cousin until Feyre pushed him away and out the door, claiming he was going to suffocate the poor child.

When Mor had descended the stairs with the new baby in her arms everyone struggled to keep their excitement quiet, as Azriel had warned them that anyone who woke the baby would immediately be evicted from the house. This was mainly directed at Cassian who looked like he was ready to burst. To alleviate his tension Mor gave her daughter to Cassian first and instantly he was calmer.

When he noticed the lack of wings Cassian turned to Azriel and asked if he was sure the baby was his. A collective breath was held as Mor smacked Cassian up the side of the head and turned her fiery gaze on him saying that if he ever questioned her daughter’s paternity again she would give him a beating so extensive it would years before anyone would recognise him again.

Cassian had quickly passed the baby to Nesta and apologised profusely to Mor as Amren, Rhys and Azriel smirked from where they stood. The question that was asked over and over was about her name, what was her name, did they have any ideas, suggestions of potential names, what was her name…

~~~~~

Thoughts of her daughter’s name brought Mor back to the present. Mor watched has her tiny chest rose and fell as she breathed, savouring each moment. Azriel had sat by the cot at night for the first two weeks of their daughter’s life, just to make sure she was still breathing through the night. The early delivery had scared him more than he ever let on, but Mor knew because she knew him and how much he loved his daughter, how much he loved his family.

Quiet footsteps announced his arrival and Mor looked up at him smiling sweetly. Azriel carried a nondescript bag and Mor rolled her eyes, he had been lavishing gifts on his daughter. Dresses, toys, furniture, whatever caught his eye, she already had a doll house complete with furniture and dolls that she wouldn’t be able to play with for years. Silently he lent forward and first kissed Mor and then their daughter before sitting on the couch beside them.

He took the sleeping child from Mor’s arms, his hands large enough and her body tiny enough that he held her head in one hand and supported her body with the other. Mor watched as Azriel looked at his daughter like she was the missing words to some prayer that he could never make, utterly and completely entranced. For many long moments Mor and Azriel sat there, not speaking, only basking in the miracle that was their daughter.

When Mor felt like she was about to cry from overwhelmed by her emotions she broke the silence. “What’s in the bag?” Azriel only smiled and slid it towards Mor with his foot. Mor smiled in return and picked it up. She pulled out what she initially thought was a baby blanket, but as she felt it and looked at it closer she realised it was much to fine for that.

“It’s a shawl, for you,” Azriel said. It was beautiful. It was a pale blue, with a slight green tone, like the colour of the Sidra on a bright and clear summers day. It matched the tones that were starting to come through in the daughter’s eyes. They had been surprised when her eyes began to lighten and not darken, at this point they held some of the blue tones that could be found in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but somewhat lighter. It would be a few more weeks before they knew for certain but it was an exciting development.

Once Mor pulled it completely out if the bag she noticed there was still something in the bag and she laughed heartily at the sight of a pile of bibs and a tiny dress in the bottom of the bag.

“I bought the shawl first,” Azriel said in response to her laughter.

“Az, you need to stop,” Mor said getting her laughter under control. “She’ll have so many things to wear she’ll never wear the same things twice.” Azriel gave Mor a knowing look. “Excuse me, I wear plenty of things twice. More even!”

“Yes dear.” Mor squealed in frustration and with laughter, but then clamped her hands over her mouth as she realised her mistake. Their daughter squirmed and Azriel bounced her gently hushing her quietly. Once she was settled again they both breathed a sigh of relief and Mor snuggled into Azriel’s arm.

“Mor.”

“Hmmm?”

“I thought of a name.” Azriel said looking at Mor as she looked at him. “Leora.”

“Oh Az,” Mor whispered, “that’s beautiful.”

“My mother, she told me once,” Azriel paused a moment to clear his throat, “she said once that that is what she though of calling me. If I hadn’t been a boy.”

“Leora,” Mor said as she lent forward to stroke the baby’s cheek. “I love it.”

“Leora then.” The proud parents sat for looking from each other, to their daughter, and at each other again. Leora began to fuss again so Azriel laid her on his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Mor watched as Leora fussed, her little face rubbing against her tiny fists. Leora began to blink and finally her eyes settled on being open once they spied her mother.

Mor smiled at the severe expression on her daughter’s face. “It’s a good thing you woke up. You have a name, Leora. Your very clever Father came up with it.”

Leora only huffed a little in response and continued to look at Mor.

“Az, her eyes…”

A small smile played across Azriel’s lips, “They’re starting to look like my Mother’s.”

~~~~~

6 months later…

Daeron had come over for a family dinner and sat with Leora on the floor of the living room as she lay on a blanket. Mor watched her children contently from the kitchen as she helped Azriel prepare dinner. She was in charge of preparation and was currently cutting up a variety of vegetables. Azriel was much better at cooking than she was so she was happy to let him dictate the flavours and actual cooking.

A burst of bright child’s laughter sounded from the living room followed by a deeper, more mature chuckle and Mor couldn’t help but smile, and turning to Azriel she found that he mirrored her expression. Mor was in love with this.

Leora had fit perfectly into their little family and Mor couldn’t imagine their family without her. She was a happy baby and gave her smiles away to everyone, but none more so than Daeron who she utterly adored. She was the light to his dark, with her golden hair and bright eyes. Leora had indeed inherited Azriel’s mother’s eyes, they were a light shade of blue with subtle green tones. Sometimes Mor caught Azriel just staring into them, a small sad smile on his face.

Azriel now left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. Mor continued to chop while Azriel took a quick reprieve with his children. After a few moments Azriel returned, smiling wider than he had before, his shadows almost non existent.

“Ah, Father?” Daeron called out confusion in present in his voice, “Is this one of yours?”

Mor shared a look with Azriel before she followed him into the living room. When they saw the cause of Daeron’s confusion they both halted and Mor lent into Azriel to keep herself upright.

“Az, are you doing that?” Mor asked and Azriel’s face was tight as he shook his head.

Leora lay there on her blanket, smiling. Smiling at the wisp of shadow that wound around and between her tiny hands.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written pre ACOWAR before the Moriel ship well and truly sunk. But I loved this story and the new little characters so I wanted to post it anyway.


End file.
